


i won't let you down (oh, yeah, yeah, yes i will)

by windowbedsthebest



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 09:18:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7262122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windowbedsthebest/pseuds/windowbedsthebest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“This is it, Alex. All of it. The entire story of us, and why we broke up.”</p>
<p>Based off the novel by Daniel Handler.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i won't let you down (oh, yeah, yeah, yes i will)

**Author's Note:**

> mean concept, i know. just trust me on this. 
> 
> (certain events and how they went are sort of altered for the fic’s benefit)
> 
> ((basically everything in italics is tobin's letter to alex she slipped into the box of breakup items. everything in between is the story behind each item, if that makes any sense))

_~~My~~ Alex,  _

 

_ Sorry. Still used to saying that. Now that I stare at it, those two words scribbled onto this piece of paper side by side, I realize how silly they look.  _

 

_ Because you were never  _ my _ Alex. You were never my anything. You never belonged to me. Come to think of it, no one really belongs to anybody. But that’s not what this is about.  _

 

_ This is about us and how we spent so much time building our own world only to watch it crumble into nothing in front of us.  _

 

_ This isn’t some psycho ex-girlfriend shit. This isn’t me writing you an angry letter telling you how much you suck because you wasted every single second we spent together. Frankly, that wouldn’t be true. Even if I knew back then where we would end up, I would do it all again in a heartbeat.  _

 

_ This is just me telling you why we broke up. Through objects. In a heavy blue box.  _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


**object one: the pre-wrap**

 

_ After every single game with the national team, we sign autographs.  _

 

_ It always kind of flustered me—how adamant people were on having our scribbled names on a piece of memorabilia. All we do is kick soccer balls to each other and hope that they find their way to the back of a huge net at one end of a field. We’re not curing cancer or anything.  _

 

_ But we must’ve been doing something special because after every game, while I would blindly sign my signature on whatever was stuck out in front of me, I would notice something. On almost every girl in the stadium was this thin, pink band that kept their hair out of their faces.  _

 

_ Pink pre-wrap. The kind Alex Morgan would wear every single game.  _

 

_ Personally, I never understood what was so special about pink pre-wrap. Then the world gave me you.  _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


In Tobin’s eyes, the first USWNT camp Alex Morgan attended started off as one of little significance. Like typical routine, she was glued to Lauren and Amy’s sides, minus the occasional ball juggling contests with Kelley. 

 

“What’s a Tar Heel anyway?” Kelley grumbled as Tobin outlasted her by a full minute.  _ A full minute.  _ Tobin laughed, grabbed her water bottle to waterfall a sip into her mouth, then squirted some on Kelley just to be an asshole. “Fuck off.” 

 

The harsh words didn’t faze Tobin; she knew they were harmless. She simply tossed the water bottle in Kelley’s direction, and Kelley rolled her eyes before taking a swig herself. “Hey, new girl is saving you from being the team’s resident baby.”

 

“I’m not a baby,” Tobin muttered, just like a baby would. She glanced in the younger girl’s direction. She was pretty. Her limbs were lanky, and her U.S. Soccer warm-ups were half a size too big on her, but God, she was pretty. Tobin voiced it in her head. But then she guessed she voiced it out loud because Kelley shot her a funny look. 

 

“Is Tobington smitten?” she had this stupid grin on her face that made Tobin feel small. Tobin shrugged. 

 

“No. I just think she’s pretty, that’s all.”

 

“Go get that piece of meat.”

 

Tobin shook her head. “Kell, don’t talk about her like that,” she mumbled, in defense of a girl she had never spoken to before. Kelley rolled her eyes.

 

“C’mon, you know I’m kidding, ok? Don’t get your tiny panties in a bunch,” she rolled her ball underneath one of her cleats. “Defending someone whose name you don’t even know?” she started to tease. 

 

Tobin narrowed her eyes at her. “I know her name.” She tried to keep her voice from wavering.

 

“Yeah? What is it?” Kelley pressed, and Tobin thoughtfully thinned her lips together in a thin line before kicking Kelley’s ball far out of her reach. 

 

“Asshole.” And as she jogged away to grab it back, Tobin headed over to where everyone’s bags were splayed out to slip on her shin guards before practice started. 

 

Alex was half-on top of it, tightly tying her cleats, and she slowly looked up at Tobin when the midfielder’s stance blocked the sun from her view. “Hey.”

 

“Hey. Um.” Her name was on the tip of Tobin’s tongue. But Tobin had this blank look on her face that made her feel like an idiot, and Alex shot her a smile before reminding her softly,

 

“Alex.” 

 

(Tobin didn’t know it back then, but out of all the smiles she’s seen, that one would grow to be her favorite.)

 

“Yeah,” she smoothed back the fly-aways that were continuously blowing onto her forehead. “Sorry, you’re sort of—you’re sort of on my bag.” 

 

Alex’s eyes bugged out like she had been caught stealing the last cookie in the cookie jar, and she quickly scooted to the side so Tobin could grab it. Tobin almost smiled, but she didn’t want Alex to think she was laughing at her. 

 

“I’m Tobin, by the way,” she squinted her eyes to block out the harsh rays of the sun as she rummaged through her bag, and although Alex had no business to stick around and talk to her, she did. 

 

“That’s a pretty name,” she mused, and Tobin uttered a quiet  _ thank you.  _ “I’ve never met a Tobin before.”

 

Tobin breathed out a laugh and looked up at Alex— _ really  _ looked up at her, and the soft contours of her face before her eyes flickered back down. “I’ve met a lot of Alex’s.” 

 

Then it was Alex’s turn to laugh, and when she did, Tobin knew it put her laugh to shame. And she didn’t know a lot of things back then, but she knew for sure she would do whatever it took to keep on hearing it. It sounded better than any song she had ever heard, better than the sound a soccer ball makes when it collides with the net of a goal. “That’s fair.”

 

Tobin’s focus averted back onto her shin guards, and the same fly-aways from before kept catching themselves in her eyes. Alex observed carefully, thinking Tobin didn’t notice because her gaze was directed at the ground. 

 

“I, um—I have some pre-wrap if you want,” Alex spoke up, and by the time Tobin started opening her mouth to tell her pre-wrap wasn’t really her thing, Alex was already digging through the pockets of her bag, pulling out a thick roll and sticking it in Tobin’s direction. Tobin recovered with a clearing of her throat. 

 

“Thanks,” she offered up a tight-lipped smile, and Alex responded with a nod. Then Pia summoned her over, and she fulfilled her request so quickly, Tobin barely noticed she left. 

 

Alex’s body was wracked with nerves. Tobin could tell from the way her would anxiously tap the heels of her cleats together or fiddle with the hem of her shirt all throughout practice. But even then she looked like she belonged. 

 

Tobin never put the pre-wrap on. She rolled it between her fingers when Kelley came over to apply her sunscreen, and she got so sucked up in their conversation about her ugliest tan lines that somehow Alex’s pre-wrap ended up getting tossed in Tobin’s bag. 

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_ I’m sorry for taking it. I really didn’t mean to. But I was afraid if I gave it back to you later, you would’ve thought that I stole it on purpose or something. And besides, you never asked about it, so I kind of just let it go.  _

 

_ Pre-wrap still doesn’t hold high on a list of things that matter to me, but that day you gave it to me does.  _

 

_ I didn’t know the sun could look so dull until you looked up at me for the first time and shot me that special smile.  _

 

_ Take the pre-wrap back, Alex. I know you don’t need it—you own so much I’m surprised the people who make them don’t rename their company after you.  _

 

_ I know it’s weird I kept it all these years. But if I keep on holding onto it, it’ll feel like I’m holding onto you, which I’m trying really hard not to do.  _

 

_ So take it. It’s not like I’ll be using it anytime soon, anyway.  _

  
  


**object two: the earbuds**

 

_ I don’t like to believe in good luck charms. It’s more comforting to have the mindset that our success stems from our natural talents. And God, of course. But if I had to have one, then I’m glad it’s you. (I know. It’s weird that I used the present tense considering the concept of  _ us  _ is in the past. But I like to think good luck charms don’t ever just lose their magic.)  _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


As usual, Tobin was running late. 

 

“I’m here, I’m here,” she scurried onto the bus, swallowing deeply to hide the fact she was out of breath. 

 

Still a rookie, her spot on the team bus hadn’t molded yet, so she ran a hand through her hair as she wordlessly scanned the aisles for a vacant seat. 

 

Then she found one. 

 

“Hey, Alex, anyone sitting here?” 

 

Alex tore her attention away from her phone and raised her eyebrows expectantly. “Oh, no—no one’s sitting here,” she hurriedly grabbed her back taking up the seat next to her and stuffed it under Lauren’s chair in front of her. “Go right ahead.”

 

Tobin couldn’t decide whether or not she got a kick out of the fact Alex seemed so nervous whenever she was around. She sat down before she could think anymore about it, shooting Alex a genuine smile. 

 

“Do you want the window seat?” 

 

Tobin blinked thoughtfully, taken aback by the question. She figured it was because whenever she sat next to Kelley, Kelley would pester her until she obtained the window seat herself. “Nah, nah, I’m good. Aisle’s what I’m used to anyway.” 

 

Alex nodded in response before popping in her earbuds and turning her attention out the window, and Tobin bent down to rummage deeply through her bag. 

 

“Do you need help or anything?” 

 

“Huh?” Tobin wrinkled her forehead. “Oh, no, I was just—my headphones, I can’t find them anywhere,” she kept digging through crumpled up t-shirts and muddy cleats. “It’s whatever.” 

 

Alex’s knee started bouncing up and down, and she cleared her throat softly before offering, “You can share mine.” 

 

Tobin cocked a curious eyebrow. 

 

“Unless that’s weird, um, yeah, my music sucks anyway,” Alex scratched at the back of her head in a panic, so Tobin shook her head to validate her. 

 

“No, no, sorry, I spaced out,” she sat back upright in her seat. “That’d be cool, if you don’t mind.” 

 

Alex offered a thin smile before tugging out one of the earbuds and handing it to Tobin, who accidentally brushed their fingers together while taking it before sticking it in her ear. Alex started to scroll quickly through her music library, her thumb rapidly tapping the screen. 

 

It confused Tobin at first. Then she realized  _ I’m Yours  _ by Jason Mraz was softly crooning through her eardrum.  _ Party In The USA  _ started playing seconds later, and she chewed on the inside of her bottom lip to suppress a smile. Alex Morgan, a Miley Cyrus fan. 

 

They sat in a comfortable silence during the ride to the stadium, Alex’s interest in the Top 40s entertaining the midfielder. A sensation of endearment settled itself into her heart when she heard Alex softly singing along to  _ I Got A Feeling  _ by the Black Eyed Peas. 

 

They were so sucked into their own world, it took Tobin half a second longer than it should have to realize they had arrived at the venue. She pulled the earbud out of her ear before handing it back to Alex. “Thanks.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Alex started to roll it up neatly in her hands. “Hey, you can keep them, actually.”

 

“Huh? No, no I can’t just take them from you,” Tobin refuted. “They’re yours.”

 

“I have like 2 extra pairs in my room back at the hotel,” Alex said. “Seriously, take them.” 

 

And Tobin did. “Ok. Thanks, Alex.” She got herself another one of those golden smiles in return. 

 

They unloaded the bus and walked a few steps apart on the way to the team locker room. 

 

Then after the game, they sat next to each other again. But this time, they actually talked.

 

This continued for every single bus ride the team had to take to and from games and practices. Alex would take the window, and Tobin would be lucky enough to take the seat next to her. 

 

(The first time Alex fell asleep on her shoulder was a good day.)

 

((The first time she fell asleep on Alex’s shoulder and drooled on her jacket….not so good of a day.))

 

It became their thing. Sitting next to each other and sharing these little moments before games—from friendlies to finals. And they were so determined, so adamant on the fact they  _ had  _ to be together that no one dared to interrupt them. Alex got so superstitious, they couldn’t even sit in a different row. 

 

But Tobin didn’t mind. Because she was with Alex, and that’s all that mattered. 

 

They started to make playlists together on Alex’s phone, ones that no one else would understand. 

 

(i.e. the playlist Tobin initiated titled  _ what it is yo. _ Alex wasn’t sure she really understood it either—it was a weird mix of alternative indie and Christian gospel music. But those were the only songs Tobin knew the words to, so she kept it at the top of their playlists for easy access.)

 

The day they pinky promised to never find new bus buddies held a lot more meaning to Tobin than she thought it should’ve. 

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_ The day you gave me these earbuds was the day I wanted to be your best friend. The kind kids wish for in preschool. I’m so glad my wish came true, Alex. Because that’s what you became. My best friend. And in some ways, you still are. _

 

_ I know it’s a lot to wish for, but I hope I’m still yours, too. _

  
  


**object three: two ibc root beer bottle caps**

 

_ It was supposed to be more romantic; our first date. I even forced Kelley to start a list of ideas with me, but all we came up with was  _ 1\. hilarious soccer puns.  _ I don’t really know where we planned to go with that. But I  _ do  _ know that I had the hugest crush on you.  _

 

_ It wasn’t just about how pretty you were. It was about everything that made you  _ you,  _ from the way you got so easily sunburnt you would go through an entire bottle of sunscreen in a week to the way you made everything feel safer by simply being.  _

 

_ Anyway. All that stuff falls under the category of why we got together, but that’s not what this is about, remember?  _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Tobin was dumb. She was also very stubborn. 

 

The lethal combination of the two traits was how she found herself trapped outside of her and Lauren’s room, her room key and cell phone on the opposite side of the door. 

 

She could’ve very much easily knocked on one of her teammates’ doors all along the floor and ask to hang out in their rooms, but after an entire night of  _ For the billionth time, I won’t forget my room key  _ and  _ I’m not a child, stop asking me if I have it,  _ she decided to solve the problem herself. 

 

Sinking to the ground in front of their door and staring at the wall wasn’t much of a solution, but she was getting there. 

 

It was fine at first. But there are only so many times she could attempt to play a thumb war against herself before she started to feel like she hit rock bottom. 

 

So she hid her face in her hoodie, stuffed her hand in the front pocket, and crossed one ankle over the other, attempting to doze off even if just for a few minutes. 

 

Then she felt a nudge at her leg. 

 

“Hey, Tobs.” Alex peered down at her with amused eyes, and Tobin’s demeanor warmed at the nickname she had been called her entire life because there was something special about it when it came out of Alex’s mouth. “Watcha doin’?” she was wearing black yoga pants and a plain gray  _ Cal  _ t-shirt, the bun in her hair was just a really big knot, and there wasn’t an ounce of makeup on her face, but Tobin still felt extraordinarily ordinary under her gaze. 

 

“Um, it’s stupid,” she ran a hand over her face and sat upright. “I just—I forgot my room key, and I can’t find Cheney anywhere. My phone’s in there, too.” 

 

“Oh.” Alex’s face contorted into one of deep thought. “You know, you could ask the lobby for a spare.”

 

Tobin pursed her lips and let out a sigh. “I already used up the five spares we’re allowed.” Unsure as to what else to say, she stared down at her mismatched socks. In her peripherals, she watched Alex take a seat on the ground across from her. “Uh—”

 

“I know you’re sitting out here because you’re stubborn, but you could probably use someone to talk to,” she said simply, tucking her legs into her chest, and Tobin’s lips slanted into a dopey smile. 

 

“Awesome, who you sending over?” she teased, and Alex tipped her head back against the wall in laughter. Tobin’s heart warmed. She stuffed her hands deeper into the pocket of her hoodie before the tips of her fingers brushed against some loose change. Her eyes lit up with an idea. “Hey, I’ll be right back.” She sprung up from her seat and told herself she didn’t see the frown starting to etch on Alex’s face. 

 

Because when she came back a minute later with two IBC root beer bottles, it was like it was never there. “Uh—”

 

“Time flies by when you got a beer in hand,” Tobin pulled her sleeve over her hand to screw off the metal caps, handing a bottle to Alex once she’s done so. “I know it’s not the same, but. Yeah.” 

 

Alex’s lips lingered above the brim of the bottle, but she didn’t take a sip. Tobin’s mind started to flood with the assumption that maybe Alex hated root beer. Oh, God, Tobin was stupid. “Maybe I don’t want time to fly.”  _ Oh.  _ “I would almost call this a date, in the most unconventional of ways.” 

 

Tobin immediately set her bottle on the ground next to her and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Because no, this wasn’t how their first date was supposed to go. Alex Morgan deserved more than a dollar’s worth of soda. Alex Morgan deserved everything there ever was, and maybe that was why Tobin still didn’t possess the willpower to actually ask her out. She started to stammer stupidly, wondering how her initial calm and collected aura as opposed to Alex’s babbling nervous one seemed to be switched from their first meeting. 

 

“Hey, if that was—if I crossed a line, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

 

“No,” Tobin hid her face behind her hands. “No, you didn’t. I just—this wasn’t—this wasn’t how I planned for that to be.” 

 

“Planned for what to be?” 

 

Tobin peered at Alex between her fingers. “You know. You just said it.” 

 

Realization flooded Alex’s features, but she didn’t budge to admit it. “Said what?” she started to smirk, and Tobin rolled her eyes.  _ “What?” _

 

“The ‘d’ word,” Tobin started to giggle, and when Alex leaned forward expectantly, she murmured giddily,  _ “Date.” _

 

_ “Oh, right,”  _ Alex finally gave in. “Ok. Now I remember.” She paused for a moment. “You planned a date you didn’t ask me out on yet?” 

 

Tobin juggled the bottle caps in her hand. “I was working on it,” she said quietly with a shrug. 

 

“Can I ask what you had so far?” 

 

Tobin shook her head. “Too embarrassing.” It didn’t take that long for her to succumb to Alex’s curious gaze. “All I had written down was  _ soccer puns.  _ That’s it. That’s literally it.” 

 

Alex grinned, and Tobin’s heart remembered to resume its beating. “So let’s hear it.” 

 

Tobin’s mouth went agape. “Huh?”

 

“Let me hear a soccer pun. Win over my heart.”

 

Tobin bit down on her bottom lip, forcing herself not to recite the one Kelley made up. “To go out with you would be my greatest goal.”  _ Great willpower, Tobs.  _

 

Alex didn’t do anything to make her feel stupid, like laugh or ask her to explain it. Instead, she took a hearty swig of her root beer, scooted forwards, and smiled warmly. “I think you did great.” And she clinked their bottles together to commemorate it. 

 

Lauren appeared forty minutes later, and Tobin and Alex’s heartfelt conversation regarding the importance of Shark Week came to a halt. “Tobin, I’ve been calling you for the past hour, have you been sitting here?” 

 

Tobin shot her an innocent smile. 

 

“Al, did she drag you out here?” Lauren’s voice was tinged with a teasing demeanor, and she stepped over Tobin’s outstretched legs to slide their room key into the hole. 

 

“No, no, she was fine,” Alex laughed, and she and Tobin stood up from their spots on the ground. 

 

Lauren held the door open for Tobin once she got inside their room. “You two are somethin’.” 

 

Tobin caught it with her foot while bending down to pick up the empty bottles and their caps. “I’ll take the trash.” 

 

Alex nodded. “Ok. Oh, Tobin, one more thing.” 

 

“Yeah?” 

 

“Just….take this, too,” Alex brought their lips together softly, and Tobin nearly dropped the contents in her hands. Alex pulled away before she had time to close her eyes. “Thanks.” She pulled the key card to her own room out of the back pocket of her athletic shorts and disappeared seconds later. 

 

Tobin was so caught off-guard she didn’t realize her leg was no longer holding her door open for her, leaving her stuck in the hallway yet again, but this time without the company of the blue-eyed girl.  _ Shit.  _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_ I’m not willingly giving them back to you; these two bottle caps that signify the beginning of who we became. Because who we became isn’t something I want to give away. But look at us now, Alex. I’d be stupid to tell myself it’s something I’m proud of.  _

 

_ I don’t care what you do with these bottle caps. Just take them. I think they’re recyclable but you may wanna double check.  _

 

**object four: the beanie**

 

_ I’m an idiot. (You of all people would know that, right?) I’m an idiot for a lot of reasons, actually, and if I had all the time and paper in the world, I would give an in depth explanation for every single one of them. But unfortunately I have neither of those, so I’ll just settle for talking about one: the way I hate bundling up when the weather calls for me to do exactly that.  _

 

_ “You’re gonna get sick, babe,” you’d say in a huff, tossing a beanie or a light jacket at me, and I’d roll my eyes when I thought you weren’t looking, immediately objecting and claiming  _ I never get sick. 

 

_ Needless to say, I would get sick. And while I was hidden under the covers, piles of crumpled tissues surrounding me, I would sniffle and tell you, “I think I got bit by a love bug,” because I thought it was funny.  _

 

_ You thought it was funny, too, at first. Then you would frown because you hated seeing me under the weather.  _

 

_ I’m sorry for not listening to you, Alex. I’m sorry for a lot of things. It keeps me up at night thinking you might not know that.  _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Tobin’s neck ached from her looking up at the sky for so long. 

 

“Tobs,” the snow crunched under Alex’s boots as she made her way over to the midfielder, whose back was leaned against the team bus. “I think the snow will still be here once we get to the stadium.” Her breath visibly swirled in the misty air in front of her. 

 

Tobin stuck her tongue back in her mouth. “In my 21 years of living, I’ve never been able to catch a snowflake on my tongue.”

 

Alex shot her an amused look, one laced with the tiniest sliver of endearment. “Neither have I, and I’m not the one who’s been standing out here all by themselves while everyone loads the bus.”

 

“I’ve gotten close,” Tobin frowned, kicking at a patch of grass the snow missed beneath her, and Alex conceded her bantering, lifting her own gaze up to the sky and letting the snow tickle her skin before it dissolved. 

 

“Never got this in California,” she said in a sigh, glancing at Tobin, who got caught for already looking at her. “Aren’t you cold without a hat?”

 

Tobin shrugged, tugging Alex closer by her training jacket. “I got all I need to keep me warm right here.” 

 

Alex dipped her head down and smirked against her shoulder. “Hate to let you down, but as much as you like me, I don’t think I can save you from coming down with a cold.” 

 

“Al, I’m fine.” Tobin rubbed at her pink nose with stiff fingers. “I don’t get sick.”

 

“You don’t get sick?” Alex raised her eyebrows. “Oh, ok, sorry.” She watched as Tobin cupped her hands around her mouth and exhaled deeply. “C’mon, could you just—just wear a beanie or something? For me?” 

 

Tobin’s shoulders slumped, the last two words echoing in her mind. Because as she looked at the girl in front of her, she decided she would do anything for her. “But why?” 

 

(Ok. Almost anything.)

 

Alex rolled her eyes and pulled out a plain, gray beanie that had been hanging out of her back pocket. “Because in the small chance your self-prophesying immunity isn’t true, if you get sick, I can’t kiss you like this.” And she leaned forward, latching onto Tobin’s lips, which were warm in contrast to the rest of her body. 

 

A loud knock from the inside of the bus broke them apart, and they both looked up to find the word  _ Gross  _ written in the fog of Kelley’s window. 

 

Tobin shyly looked down at the ground and wordlessly grabbed the beanie before slipping it on. “I guess I’d miss those a little.” 

 

They were summoned onto the bus minutes later.

 

Tobin ignored the kissy face Kelley shot her on her way to her seat. 

 

Neither of them were named into the starting XI. Tobin bit her lip as she slipped on warm ups. The whole soccer thing, it got hard when you didn’t get to see minutes as much as you wanted to. But Alex knocked their shoulders together as they walked into the tunnel, a silent way of saying everything would find its way into place. It might just take a little longer than they initially perceived. 

 

Alex was a calm and steady force next to her on the bench, the bottom half of her face hidden in the collar of her jacket. Until the 46th minute, when she was called to go in for A-Rod. 

 

Her eyes bugged out just like they did when she and Tobin first met, when Tobin gently told her she was sitting on her bag, and Tobin grinned before nudging at her side. “Go, Al. They need you.” 

 

Alex was out of her seat before she finished unzipping her jacket. 

 

Tobin spent the next 44 minutes a stupid grinning idiot, clutching at her sweats whenever Alex so much as got a touch on the ball. 

 

“She’s doing really well,” A-Rod mused from her right, and Tobin tugged on the hem of the beanie snug on her head. 

 

“I taught her everything she knows,” she joked, and A-Rod laughed into her training jacket. 

 

The team got the win, and Alex was matted with sweat as they all walked back to the locker room, but Tobin placed the quickest of kisses on her cheek when no one was looking. 

 

“Tobs, I smell,” Alex giggled tiredly. 

 

“You’re a rockstar,” Tobin stuffed her hands deep into her pockets. “I’m glad everyone got to see why tonight.”

 

“Did you catch your snowflake?” Alex asked once they took their seats on the bus. 

 

Tobin clenched her jaw to fight off the incredibly cheesy words begging to escape out of her lips. “Nah. I got you instead.”  _ Dammit.  _ She told herself she hung out with Kelley too much. 

 

Alex leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek. “That was cute, Tobs,” she reassured, as if having read Tobin’s unsettled mind. 

 

“Here’s your beanie back, by the way,” Tobin tugged it off her head and outstretched her arm. 

 

Alex didn’t take it, instead pulling out her earbuds and sticking one in Tobin’s ear for her. “Eh, keep it. It looks better on you anyway.”

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_ I wore the beanie every time it snowed. Mostly because it came from you, but also because a small, naive part of me had this mindset that as long as I wore it, I could keep myself from getting sick. I guess I thought I wasn’t strong enough to do it on my own.  _

 

_ Alex, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was never strong enough for the both of us. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.  _

 

**object five: the gum wrapper**

 

_ When I was 4, we had to do this project in school.  _ What is love?  _ was the prompt we got. I said that love is passing someone the soccer ball even when you know you can score yourself.  _

 

_ If someone asked me that same question now, I’m not really sure what I’d say. I don’t think love could be bound by a set of words arranged in a sentence or two. It holds more meaning than every word in the dictionary.  _

 

_ I guess my best attempt at defining love is not wanting to imagine a world without someone because while you know you’d survive, you don’t know if you’d ever really _ live. 

 

_ Basically, love is what I felt towards you.  _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Tobin never talked much when she was tired. 

 

Well, she figured she was never the most talkative when she was well-rested either, but after a day of traveling, she was quieter than usual at the team dinner. The only thing keeping her from falling asleep right there on the table was Kelley’s nonstop anecdote about their flight. 

 

(There was also Alex innocently tracing light circles on her knee under the table. That, too.)

 

Contrary to what her mom always scolded her for growing up, she brought her elbows onto the table and rested her chin on her hands, offering a tired smile whenever Kelley’s story would call for one, or when Syd would make a comment not-so-under-her-breath. 

 

“You good?” Alex murmured into her ear, and Tobin nodded. 

 

“Just maxed out.” 

 

“Here, Tobs, have some gum while we wait for the food,” Heather spoke up from across the table, digging through her bag. “Orbit’s doing this thing where they print out little messages on their wrappers, it’s pretty sweet.” She blindly plucked a strip out, and Tobin took it with a  _ thank you.  _

 

She peered down at it, squinting her eyes to read the message.  _ I love you  _ was printed in small black font up and down the entire wrapper. 

 

Alex’s hand had moved from her knee to the back of her neck, massaging it softly. And the touch was infiltrated with so much innocence but so much love that Tobin’s heart started to beat a little quicker under the contact.

 

She looked down at the wrapper again, the three small words screaming at her, telling her to do something. She unwrapped the gum and popped it in her mouth. But instead of crumpling up the wrapper and tossing it onto the table, she neatly flattened it out and wordlessly handed it to Alex. 

 

The massaging instantaneously halted, and Tobin could feel her heart beating in her ears.  _ You’re an idiot, you’re an idiot, you’re an idiot. _

 

Alex cleared her throat and flickered her eyes to Kelley, who was still rambling, before taking the wrapper and ripping it in half. Tobin was still staring at her lap when one of the halves was placed in her hand. “Me too,” Alex whispered lowly, and Tobin hid her face in her sleeve.

 

She smiled so hard her cheeks started to ache.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_ This isn’t me throwing your love away, ok? This is me asking you to give this to someone who deserves it. _

 

**object six: cal pendant**

 

Golden State  _ by City and Colour. Catchy tune. You probably wouldn’t agree with its message but it’s worth the listen. There’s a lyric in one of its verses that always stood out to me _ . “There are beautiful people, in the city of lost angels. They're living like they're kings and queens, from some royal age.”  _ I like to think that’s true, Alex. I like to think that’s how you live; like a queen from some royal age, even if it’s without me. You’ve already got the  _ beautiful  _ part down.  _

 

_ There’s another lyric thrown in the song that breaks my heart.  _

 

“And from time to time I'll pass on by, but I will never stay.”

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Their first Christmas together was spent in Diamond Bar. 

 

Tobin woke up the morning of the 25th, her eyes squinting as sun rays bled through the curtains of Alex’s childhood bedroom. She frowned, missing the familiar sight of light snow coating the ground outside. 

 

Then a light kiss was pressed to the back of her neck, and she figured she’d rather miss the snow than have to miss Alex. 

 

“Fuck,” was murmured into her hair, and Tobin’s eyebrows pinched together, like they do whenever she started to think too hard. 

 

“What?” 

 

“I asked Santa if I could wake up with you under the tree. A bow on your head.” Alex was laughing before she made it halfway through the sentence, and Tobin hid her giggles into her pillow. “Instead you’re here. With me.” She tugged Tobin closer by the back of her shirt. “I guess he knew this was a lot better.”

 

And Tobin’s cheeks flowered red. “Smart man.”

 

Their pinkies brushed against each other as they walked downstairs, hair mussed and pajamas wrinkled. Tobin didn’t even have time to adjust her glasses more comfortably on the bridge of her nose when Pam rushed them over by the tree to take a family picture. 

 

She grinned as Mike tried his best to outstretch his arm far enough to capture everyone in the shot, ultimately cropping out one of Alex’s sisters by accident. She grinned even harder when Alex wound her arms around her neck and pulled her close before smiling into the camera.

 

“I’m telling you,” Jeri huffed. “The world needs needs like —like this stick. It holds your phone on one end so that you can take a proper selfie.”

 

Jen rolled her eyes as everyone started to stumble into the kitchen for breakfast. “That’s the dumbest idea in the world.”

 

Tobin suppressed a laugh, entertained at the idea, when there was a light tug on her wrist. 

 

“Hey,” Alex shot her a shy smile, as if it was the first time they had locked eyes on each other. “I—I wanted to give you your present.”

 

Tobin’s eyebrows lifted. “Al, we said we would give our presents after New Year’s.” Her eyes bugged out of her head. “Mine’s back home in Jersey, I don’t—”

 

“Hey, hey,” Alex’s fingers wrapped around the back of Tobin’s neck, and Tobin’s muscles relaxed instantaneously. “Let me be the romantic one for once,” she said, despite the fact she was  _ always _ the romantic one. Tobin’s idea of romance was playing 1 v 1 as the sun set. 

 

“Oh, ok,” she said lamely, hiding her hands into the sleeves of the hoodie she stole from Alex’s closet. 

 

Alex dug through the presents surrounding the tree, grunting as she picked one from the pile. Tobin took it in her hands, observing it carefully. Mistletoes decorated the wrapper, and Tobin sucked on her bottom lip to hide a smirk. She tore the wrapping paper off and let it fall to the floor, and a small white box stared at her right in the face. 

 

Alex held onto the lid after Tobin removed it, a grin stretching onto her face as Tobin slowly pulled out an old, navy and gold  _ Cal Bears _ pendant.  _ “Oh _ , wow, Al.” A smile that failed to reach her eyes resided on her lips. “This is—this is cool, dude,” she swallowed deeply, and Alex broke out into a fit of laughter, doubling over her knees. “Um.”

 

“That’s not—that’s not your real present,” Alex said through giggles. She rolled her eyes and leaned forward to press a kiss to the side of Tobin’s mouth before fishing out another gift, a smaller one. “This is it. Ok? I promise.”

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_ I’m thinking about it now, and it probably seems ironic how that line gets to me. I spend so much time on planes you would think it’s just a jumble of words to my eyes. But it isn’t.  _

 

_ I can’t count how many times I’ve apologized thus far, but I’m sorry, Alex. I’m sorry I never stayed.  _

 

**object seven: the ring**

 

_ This object is probably the hardest to give away.  _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Tobin shook the box, much like a child would. “This isn’t a Cal keychain, is it?”

 

“Nah, I figured the one I gave you for your birthday was enough.” Alex stifled a laugh at her own joke, which made Tobin smile. 

 

The small tag in the center of the wrapping paper made Tobin careful not to rip it.  _ For my T.  _ “Feels like a winner,” she quipped, discarding the wrapper paper and placing it neatly onto the couch behind her. 

 

Alex seemed to shift nervously as she slowly removed the lid of the box, chewing on her thumbnail. Tobin teasingly cocked an eyebrow, the weight of her heart lightening when her eyes found the gift. 

 

A gold ring shined up at her, and her fingers shook as she reached down to lift it up. She examined it carefully, thoroughly. The word engraved along the inside slanted the corners of her mouth up into a smile.  _ Everyday.  _ She murmured the word softly. 

 

“Frankly  _ forever  _ is too ordinary,” Alex breathed out the sentence as a nervous laugh. “And you’re more than that. You’re more than ordinary, Tobs.” 

 

“Everyday,” Tobin repeated the word again, more confidently. “That’s a lot of days, Al.” She quickly slipped the ring onto her middle finger and took a step closer to the girl in front of her. “It may be a lot, but it’s not enough.” 

 

And all of Alex’s features relaxed, as if wars had stopped and cancer was cured. “I love you.” Her fingers wrapped around the nape of Tobin’s neck. “I love your smile, your laugh, your pout, and I love  _ you _ .” She shook her head incredulously. “And I don’t wanna learn how to stop.” 

 

Tobin began to fiddle with the strings of Alex’s hoodie. “I don’t deserve you,” she mumbled. “But I’m gonna make you proud. I swear. I’ll make the world lighter for you.” 

 

Alex grinned and leaned forward to plant an innocent, close-mouthed kiss on Tobin’s lips. “You’re already my light, dummy.”

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_ People would make fun of me for the God awful tanline I got from wearing the ring so often, but I never really cared. ~~It~~ You were too important for me to even bat an eyelash.  _

 

_ If there was one object in this box I wish I didn’t have to give away, this would be it. In a heartbeat. This ring means the entire world to me. Maybe even more than that.  _

 

_ That’s exactly why I can’t keep it. You know that, right? Trying to hold onto it means trying to hold onto you, and that’s not fair to either of us.  _

 

_ You deserve everything, Alex. I mean it. And I guess  _ everything  _ includes not being tied down to me through this ring, and that’s ok.  _

 

_ Take care of it. Please.  _

 

**object eight: the sweatshirt**

 

_ I hated it when we fought. _

 

_ Ok. That sounds kind of stupid because doesn’t everyone feel the same way about their own relationships?  _

 

_ I don’t know. But it was different with you. Every time I saw you frown, every time I saw your facial features harden in anger or disappointment and I knew I was the reason why, I felt the world start slipping through my fingers. When I was little, I thought I knew what helplessness felt like whenever I got a bad grade on a spelling test. I was wrong. Helplessness is what I felt _ _ —really felt—whenever I upset you. I just never showed it.  _

 

_ I really wish I had. Maybe—just  _ maybe— _ if I did, we would’ve made it. _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


July 17th, 2011 was a hard day for the United States Women’s National Team.

 

Losing was never easy. For any of them. But losing on the biggest stage they’ve ever played on, being so close to victory it was palpable in the air only to have it torn from their grip was a sensation they wouldn’t wish on their deepest rivals. 

 

For Tobin, on top of all of that was the burden of a missed penalty kick tugging at every sensation of her being with every single breath she took. 

 

She was a pile of lanky limbs and silence the ride back to the hotel. Alex let her have the window seat, but she couldn’t even find the energy to thank her. 

 

No silly questions like  _ “Are you ok?” _ or  _ “What’s on your mind?” _ were asked. Just stolen glances and wringing of hands. 

 

Tobin didn’t look out the window. She didn’t look at Alex, who was silently unraveling to her left. She stared straight ahead at the back of the seat in front of her, her muscles stiff. It was all she knew she could do. 

 

They were a couple minutes away from the hotel when Alex’s rasped softly, “Everything’s gonna be ok. You know that, right?”

 

Tobin didn’t so much as flinch. 

 

Alex swallowed deeply, slumping her shoulders. Tobin roughly shrugged out of her touch when the most tender of hands was placed on her knee. 

 

That’s when Alex’s demeanor changed, as if she had been slapped square in the face. And Tobin wanted so badly to feel remorse, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t feel anything.

 

The quiet shuffle of feet was the only sound elicited when everyone unloaded the bus. 

 

The hollowness continued as they took the elevator up to their respective floors. Tobin came alert to her senses for the first time since the final whistle blew when Heather followed Kelley out to the sixth floor instead of Alex. 

 

She could feel Alex’s eyes on her and she stared at her feet. 

 

The elevator reached floor ten, and her stomach did a somersault as Alex followed her out, her fingers fumbling as she fished her room key out of her bag. 

 

“You’re not the only one who lost.” Alex’s voice was steady the second they stepped into Tobin and Heather’s room and the door closed shut. 

 

Tobin’s face contorted into one laced with irritation. “What?”

 

“You are not. The only one. Who lost tonight.” Alex dropped her bag onto the ground and stepped even further into the room. “You realize that, right?” 

 

Tobin slowly pivoted on her feet so she was face to face with the younger girl. “You don’t think I realize that?” her eyes narrowed, her voice hoarse. “You don’t think I sat through probably the heaviest bus ride I’ve ever been on from the stadium to the hotel?”

 

“You know what, I wouldn’t know, Tobin!” Alex argued. “I mean, considering you’ve been acting like nobody else in the world exists ever since the game ended, you could’ve fooled me.”

 

Tobin eyed her intently. “You don’t get to tell me how I’m supposed to cope with this. You are not allowed to do that.”

 

“I’m not!” Alex’s voice raised, and it sounded foreign to Tobin’s ears. She’s heard Alex yell a countless number of times, but she could count on her fingers how many times it’s been directed towards her. “Fuck, I’m not—I’m not doing that.” She ran her hands over her face. “But Tobin, I’m your girlfriend. You’re supposed to tell me when something’s bothering you so I can help. Don’t you get it? I  _ want _ to help you. But I can’t do that because you never tell me when you’re upset.”

 

“Ok,  _ I’m upset!  _ Jesus, is that what you want to hear?” Tobin’s eyes bugged out of her head. “I’m upset because we lost. I’m upset because Pia trusted me with a penalty kick that could’ve helped us win the game and I fucked up. I’m upset because I will  _ never  _ forget the looks on everyone’s faces after I missed. I’m upset because—because,  _ fuck _ , I don’t know.  _ I’m upset _ . There, I said it. So go on, Alex. Help me like you say you wanted to. Let’s see what you got.”

 

And all the hurt in the world found itself onto the face of Alex Morgan, but Tobin was too much of a mess to notice it. “So you don’t.”

 

Tobin exhaled a breath of exhaustion. “I don’t what?”

 

“You don’t realize that you’re not the only one who lost tonight,” her voice starts to choke, but she doesn’t let any tears dare to make their way down her face. “You don’t—you don’t realize you’re not the only person who’s hurting right now. You think you’re the only one who’s allowed to feel the weight of this loss because you missed a penalty kick. What about the whole 90 minutes of regulation time, Tobin?”

 

_ “You scored a goal!” _

 

“But in the end, was it enough?” Alex asked sharply. “Does that goal matter right now? When I look down at the silver medal on my neck, do you think that goal could possibly matter at all?” 

 

Tobin’s jaw tightened. “What are you even doing here?” she asked bitterly. “Did you just come to yell at me?”

 

Alex shook her head. “I came here because I love you and I wanted to tell you how proud of you I was despite the result of the game because this team is much more than that.  _ You and I _ are much more than that,” she said levelly. “But frankly? Right now, I don’t know anymore.” 

 

Tobin didn’t say anything. She removed the silver medal from her neck, tossed it onto her bed, and sauntered into the bathroom without another word.

 

There was no trace of Alex the second she stepped foot back into the room. 

 

Her eyes burned, but she had no desire to cry. She rummaged through her luggage to find a sweatshirt to wear, the air conditioning of the room nipping at her skin. Her hands halted when she found an old, faded white hoodie that read  _ Diamond Bar _ in navy letters across the front. 

 

She slipped it on without a second thought and pretended to sleep when she heard Heather let herself into the room, her body stilling.

 

Sleep never found her that night.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_ July 17th, 2011 was probably one of the worst nights of my life, and not just because we lost the final.  _

 

_ You were right, Alex. You were right about what you said.  _

 

_ I remember the next morning.  _

 

_ They had the team eat one last breakfast before we had to head back to the States, and the second I saw you walk into the room, I pulled you aside, and you let me.  _

 

_ I can’t remember the last time I cried that hard. I was a bumbling mess of tears,  _ I love you’ _ s, and  _ I’m sorry’ _ s. And you just held me.  _

 

_ Thank you. Thank you for that, and for keeping me from falling apart in more ways than one.  _

 

**object nine: the polaroid**

 

_ Thanksgiving is underrated.  _

 

_ I know some people think the opposite; that Thanksgiving shouldn’t be a holiday because shouldn’t we be thankful for each other every day of the year? It’s basically the same reason some people don’t get Valentine’s Day.  _

 

_ They make a valid point, I guess. But with all the shit life throws at you, I think Thanksgiving is a good way to kind of remind yourself and remind others that there’s so much to be thankful for.  _

 

_ I wish I had been better at letting you know how thankful I was for you.  _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Thanksgiving was spent in Basking Ridge. 

 

It wasn’t the first time Tobin brought Alex home to be with the family, but she still got butterflies in her stomach when her parents picked them up from the airport. And it was like, the good kind of butterflies. The kind she got right before games. Or the kind she got whenever she looked at Alex and tried to scientifically figure out how she got lucky enough to love her. 

 

(She never figured out. But she was happy nonetheless.) 

 

“Ok, now it’s time to go around the table,” Cindy folded up her napkin in her lap, and all four of her children groaned while Alex hid a smile behind a hearty sip of her wine. She ignored their protests, “And say what we’re all thankful for.”

 

“Mom, c’mon,” Katie rubbed at her eyebrows with a smile. “We’re not—we’re not kids anymore.”

 

“So just because your kids doesn’t mean you can’t be thankful for things anymore?” Cindy challenged, and Perry nudged Katie’s side. “Here, I’ll start. Make it easy for all of you.”

 

“Wait, I’ll start,” Jeff spoke up, and all heads at the table pivoted in his directions. “Only because I think we should set the bar high, and we’re not gonna do that by starting off with something as basic as ‘I’m thankful for all of you.’” He cleared his throat. “I’m thankful for Tar Heels.” And then he nodded his head. Because that was that. 

 

Tobin softly pursed her lips in agreement, biting at her bottom lip while Perry and Katie rattled on about health and family and their boyfriends. 

 

Then she was up. 

 

“Um,” she picked at the table cloth draping off the edge of the table. “I’m, uh—I’m thankful for God. And soccer.” She knocked her ankles together as if it would make time slow down. “And all of you.” 

 

(The last part came out quieter than the rest in a low murmur. “Especially Alex because she’s super cool and funny and pretty.”)

 

Alex’s cheeks flowered a sweet shade of red, and under the table she gave Tobin’s thigh an innocent squeeze. 

 

“I’m thankful for everything, really. Um—yeah. I don’t know.” Alex lifted her shoulder in a shrug, a small laugh escaping her lips. “And I’m pretty thankful for this one, too,” she poked Tobin’s ribs. “Because if it weren’t for her, I would’ve never been lucky enough to be here with all of you.” 

 

Tobin grinned, absentmindedly tracing a heart onto the tablecloth between her and Alex’s plate with her pointer finger. 

 

Her limbs turned to jelly when Alex retraced it with a heart of her own. 

 

Another bottle of wine later, everyone shuffled upstairs for bed, and Alex laid nuzzled under Tobin’s covers, fiddling with the polaroid camera that had been sitting on her nightstand. “You never told me you had one of these.”

 

Tobin tugged the ponytail holder out of her hair so it fell in tangled waves over her shoulders. “Eh. It’s Perry’s.” She sat atop the covers, resting on Alex’s hips. “Gimme.”

 

Alex wordlessly handed it to her, and Tobin observed how beautiful Alex looked without an ounce of makeup on her face, observed how stupid she’d be if she didn’t take it upon herself to snap the quickest of pictures. 

 

So she did. 

 

It took awhile, but eventually after minutes of shaking it, she got the polaroid she wanted; a makeup free Alex with half her face hidden under the covers. One would be stupid to not figure out she had the biggest smile on her face. 

 

Tobin rolled off the side of the bed to dig a Sharpie out of one of her drawers. 

 

She scribbled in a single word right underneath the picture.  _ Thankful.  _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_ You fell asleep before the picture turned out, but I was almost glad because if you saw it, you would’ve said something like  _ I look awful!  _ or  _ Oh my God, Tobin! Throw it away! 

 

( _ You know it’s true.)  _

 

_ I don’t have many posed pictures of us because we never really had our phones out whenever we were together. But a big part of me likes these candids better because I get to see you when happiness takes over every muscle in your body.  _

 

_ And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that a smile has never looked better on anyone else.  _

 

_ I know you have no business to do anything with a picture of yourself I took a year and a half ago, but I have no business to do anything with it either if I’m trying to get over you. Whenever I look at it, I’m  _ this  _ close to falling in love with you all over again.  _

 

**object ten: the flag**

 

_ You’re almost done reading this, I promise. You just have to stick with me for a few more items.  _

 

_ According to conspiracy theorists, or the Mayan calendar or some shit, 2012 was the year the world was supposed to end.  _

 

_ But when you netted in that header against Canada in the semifinal with seconds left in extra time, I thought to myself, maybe they all got it wrong. Maybe 2012 was the year our world would begin.  _

 

_ (Ok. Maybe that’s a little dramatic. But I’m trying to describe what it meant to me to be there and celebrate that with you. That was my best shot at it.) _

 

_ Lots of life has been lived since I met you, Alex. And I wouldn’t trade a single day of it. For anything _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


The whistle blew and Tobin was in Lauren’s arms before her eyes could find Alex’s. 

 

“We did it,” was echoed into her eardrums, and she clutched tighter onto Lauren’s jersey, her way of reminding herself none of it was a dream. “We did it, we did it, we did it.” 

 

Tobin was released from her grip seconds later, and the whole world seemed to spin as another pair of arms was thrown around her shoulders. 

 

_ “We fucking won the Olympics!”  _ Kelley boomed out a laugh and flung her legs around Tobin’s hips. “Since U-17s baby!” 

 

“Happy to share it all with you, Kell,” Tobin beamed against Kelley’s shoulder. “Always.”

 

There were more and more hugs, and Tobin sunk into every single one of them. She wanted to share this moment, this feeling, this sensation with every single teammate on the pitch. The championship t-shirt was thrown in her direction so quickly she barely caught it. 

 

“Awesome tournament, Tobs,” Abby engulfed her moments after they both slipped on their shirts, lightly jostling Tobin’s head. 

 

“You too, Abs,” Tobin heartily patted her back, and Abby slowly detached from the hug, a smile catching at her lips when she glanced over Tobin’s shoulder. 

 

“Go celebrate with her,” she pivoted Tobin’s body using her shoulders and shoved her forward, causing Tobin to collide roughly with another body. 

 

Alex.  _ Her  _ Alex. Already draping a giant American flag over them to seal them away from the rest of the stadium, the rest of the world. “Hey, you,” Alex shot her that smile that made Tobin feel like she was in the clouds, a giggle escaping her mouth. 

 

“We’re here because of you,” Tobin ignored the catch in her voice. 

 

Alex was quick to shake her head. “No, don’t say that.” She leaned forward so their foreheads touched and their lips hovered over each other. 

 

“You sent us to this final,” Tobin balled fists of Alex’s jersey and tugged her impossibly closer. Her smile turned into a mischievous smirk. “It took you a little too long, but somehow you managed to pull through.”

 

“Shut up and kiss me, dummy,” Alex scolded lightly. 

 

And Tobin listened. 

 

“I’m so proud of you,” Alex started to cry into Tobin’s neck once they had to pull away for air. “Never forget that. Promise? I’m proud of you, and I’m proud of us, and I’m never gonna get what I’m feeling right now.”

 

Tobin felt her own throat close up with emotions. “I’m so fucking in love with you. I need you to never forget  _ that.”  _

 

And they stayed there, hidden under the flag until everyone was called to the podium. 

 

Tobin was all excitement and anticipation as she waited for the medal to be placed around her neck. 

 

(And not just because Alex held her hand even after they unwrapped the flag from around their shoulders.)

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_ I know it’s dumb to include an entire American flag that I managed to fold small enough into a box of reasons we broke up.  _

 

_ I guess I put it in as excuse to tell you that I haven’t forgotten what it felt like either.  _

 

_ I haven’t forgotten what it felt like when for a couple minutes, all that mattered was the two of us and this flag.  _

 

_ I haven’t forgotten. But I’m trying.  _

 

_ It’s starting to hurt too much to remember. _

 

**object eleven: the snapback**

 

_ When I look up the definition of the word  _ home,  _ this is what I find:  _ “the place where one lives permanently, especially as a member of a family or household.” 

 

_ I didn’t like that one that much. So I looked even deeper and found this on Urban Dictionary:  _ “A word that means something different to each person who uses it. In the case of some people, home is a variable concept, changing dependant on the placement of another person or object.”

 

_ Changing dependant on the placement of another person.  _

 

_ I liked that bit a lot.  _

 

_ Because it’s basically saying a home doesn’t always have to limit itself to a house.  _

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


They announced the new league later that year. 

 

Tobin was half-asleep with Alex’s legs slung lazily across her lap, her limp hand barely keeping the remote from slipping off the edge of the couch as they watched ESPN highlights of the recent Barca game when Kelley slid into the room, nearly slipping with her socks on and phone in hand. “It’s official. We got one. We got a league.”

 

Meals in the subsequent days consisted of excited chatter and predictions. 

 

_ What if all 3 of us end up on the same team? _

 

_ That’s not gonna happen. _

 

_ Do you think they’ll have a team in California? _

 

_ I heard we’re getting one in Kansas City. _

 

Then there was the thought in Tobin’s mind she never felt like voicing.

 

_ What if Alex and I get allocated to two teams on opposite sides of the country? _

 

“Don’t worry about it. Ok?” Alex said into the darkness of Tobin’s bedroom later that night, as if she read her mind. 

 

(Never mind Alex was supposed to be asleep in her own room across the hall. As long as they weren’t doing anything adults would do, and as long as Kelley couldn’t hear them, it didn’t matter.)

 

“I’m not worried,” Tobin whispered the lie into the cloth of Alex’s shirt. 

 

“I hate it when you lie to me,” Alex said sleepily. “Especially because you’re bad at it.” 

 

Tobin didn’t respond. She stared at the ceiling fan that spun slowly right above them. 

 

“The allocation isn’t for another two months. And I want to focus on right now. With you.” Alex’s voice kept from wavering even when Tobin could tell it wanted to. 

 

“Yeah. Me too.” 

 

And that’s what they did. They focused on what was right in front of them and only talked about the league whenever news notable to discuss was leaked.

 

Then Tobin got a call from the owner of Paris Saint-Germain.

 

She let him leave a voicemail so as to not attract any attention when Kelley and Alex were home. 

 

When the two decided to go out for a bike ride, Tobin played the part of an under-the-weather girl, and she stayed to call him back. 

 

_ You have to tell Alex. You have to tell her before you do anything.  _ The words kept sleep away at night. Especially the nights Alex would sneak into her bed and fall asleep with their limbs tangled together. 

 

The offer; the money, the playing time, the venue, was too brilliant to ignore. In a rush of adrenaline and impulse, she accepted the six-month offer before she could think twice about the young forward. She didn’t know how neither Alex nor Kelley heard the sobs muffled into her comforter that same night. 

 

A day never went by she meant to tell Alex. 

 

She would rehearse the confrontation in the shower, in the car, in front of a mirror. But nothing was ever good enough.

 

Frankly, she figured there was no right way to tell the person who holds your entire world that you’d be away playing soccer in another country for at least half the year. 

 

The National Women’s Soccer League Player Allocation was announced January 11, 2013. 

 

Kelley ended up in New Jersey with Sky Blue, Lauren was in Kansas City, and Amy was in Seattle. 

 

None of that mattered when Tobin’s eyes fell on the following:

 

**_Portland Thorns FC_ **

_ Rachel Buehler (USA) _

_ Tobin Heath (USA) _

_ Alex Morgan (USA) _

_ Luz Saucedo (MEX) _

_ Marlene Sandoval (MEX) _

_ Karina LeBlanc (CAN) _

_ Christine Sinclair (CAN) _

 

Her phone started to shake in her hand, and it took her an extra second to realize it was because her fingers were the source of the tremors. 

 

_ “Shit, this is amazing, babe!”  _ Alex flung her arms around Tobin’s torso and started to pepper her face with light kisses, and Tobin let herself go as they plopped down onto the couch in a fit of giggles. 

 

This was bad, and in the back of her mind, she knew it. If she thought telling Alex about Paris was going to be hard before the allocation, the revelation seemed near to impossible now. 

 

So she dropped it. She let herself and Alex be happy because they deserved to be. 

 

(Well, at least the latter did.)

 

Tobin woke up to an empty bed the next morning. 

 

Panic and alert stung at the tips of her being, and she abruptly sat upright.  _ Alex knows. She knows, she knows, she knows. And she left.  _

 

The last part was right. Alex  _ did  _ leave.

 

Only to return with a present.

 

“It’s not much, but I wouldn’t have been able to get through the day if I didn’t get it for you.” Her smile was bright and alive as she handed Tobin a jet black snapback with three big letters across the front.  _ PDX.  _ “Our new home.” 

 

Tobin’s heart rate picked up, and her palms started to sweat, and she started to feel that hollowness in her stomach again. “Alex, I—” she lifted her gaze and found herself staring into two oceans of baby blues. “I—I love it. Thank you,” a warm smile found her lips, and she wrapped her fingers around the brim of the cap. “Our new home,” she repeated, the words bittersweet on her tongue. “I wish I had something for you, I—”

 

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Alex slowly removed it from her grasp and placed it backwards on Tobin’s head. “I love Portland, and I love you. That’s enough.” A soft kiss was pressed to the side of Tobin’s mouth. And Tobin tried to smile, but it fell flat. 

 

If Alex noticed, she didn’t make anything out of it. She was already setting the table for breakfast before Tobin’s parasympathetic system kicked in and calmed her down. 

 

January 25, 2013 was a really, really bad day. 

 

Tobin sleepily stumbled into the kitchen that morning, making a beeline towards the coffee maker when something froze all her muscles. 

 

Alex was at the counter, scrolling through her laptop like usual. But it was the page on her screen that drained all the blood from Tobin’s face. 

 

_ “TOBIN HEATH JOINS PARIS SAINT-GERMAIN.” _

 

“What—what is this?” Alex didn’t sound mad, she didn’t sound bitter or angry. 

 

She sounded helpless. 

 

The shock that surged through Tobin’s veins could restart a heart. “Alex, please close that laptop.” Suddenly coffee didn’t seem that necessary to wake her up. 

 

Alex’s face contorted into one of hurt and confusion. 

 

“Alex. Please. Turn off that laptop,” Tobin repeated, walking slowly in her direction, but Alex shot out of her seat and took a step back with each step Tobin took forward. 

 

Alex’s jaw slackened in horror. “So it’s true. You’re—Paris. You’re going to—” she clamped a tight hand over her mouth before she could let herself finish the sentence. Tobin swallowed deeply when Alex’s knuckles started to turn white. 

 

Tobin shook her head with defeat. “I’m—I’m sorry—” she made another move to minimize the space between them, but Alex recoiled as if she had been electrocuted. 

 

_ “Do not get any closer,”  _ she said levelly, but the disgust in her voice made Tobin wish she just yelled. Then her shoulders started to shake, and her head lulled forward. She started to cry. “How could you do this?” 

 

Tobin felt herself getting dizzy. She leaned against the back of one of the chairs at the dining table to maintain equilibrium. “I just—the offer, Al. The money, the playing time—”

 

“Not  _ that _ ,” Alex spit out. “How could you not tell me?” she gave up on wiping the salty tears from her cheeks. 

 

“I meant to, I did—”

 

“Oh, you did? Tobin, was that before or after I worked my ass off to get us allocated to the same team?” her eyes were dangerous, they were hard. Tobin shrunk in front of them. 

 

“I’m coming back.”

 

_ “In six months!”  _ Alex reminded her harshly. “You know how much life is packed into six months? Do you? I really want to know.” 

 

Tobin wanted to be mad. She wanted to defend herself, justify her decisions. 

 

Then she realized she had no right to. 

 

“Fuck, I cannot  _ believe _ you would do this to me!” she harshly dug the heels of her hands into her eyes. "How long ago did you accept the offer?"

 

Tobin shook her head, not wanting to answer because she knew if she did, the situation would get impossibly worse. "Alex, don't."

 

"It's been months, isn't it?" Alex asked sadly, and when Tobin didn't respond, she looked too tired to even react. "You spent every single the day for the past month or two with the weight of this news following you around everywhere you went, and you couldn't find the strength to tell me." She paused. "Was I the problem? Was I the one who wouldn't be strong enough to take the news? That's why you kept it from me, because I'm too fragile to handle it?"  


 

“Alex, what—no, no, that's not it," Tobin refuted in a panic. "I’m sorry,” she lamely mumbled again.  _ What else was she supposed to say? _

 

Alex shook her head before she was set into another round of messy sobs. “Sorry won’t make you stay.” The magnitude of hurt in her voice stung at Tobin’s skin.

 

Tobin tried again, stepping closer and closer until she could feel Alex’s breath against her cheek. “Al —”

 

Alex recoiled again. “Don’t—no. Don’t call me that, please,” she pleaded softly. Tobin’s heart sunk.

 

“What we have here, you and me—that doesn’t have to end just because—”

 

“I can’t do this,” Alex shook her head sullenly, and Tobin’s entire world froze right in front of her eyes.

 

“What? What do you mean?”

 

“I can’t,” Alex sniffled loudly. “I can’t be with someone who’s so incapable of talking about things like this that I have to find out through a fucking website they’re gonna be spending the next six months in another country. I can’t—I can’t be with someone who never lets me in. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me.”

 

“Alex, of course I trust you—”

 

“No, you don’t, Tobin!” Alex said sharply. “If you did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation! If you did, we would’ve been able to talk about it like mature adults. We would’ve been able to work things out.” She lowered her voice significantly. “We would’ve lasted.”

 

A sensation of pain shot through Tobin’s insides. “Alex, don’t say it. Please, please, please, you can’t say it.”

 

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Tobs,” Alex murmured defeatedly. “If this was the night we lost the World Cup I would’ve put it behind us because things were so different back then, but now?” she shook her head. “Tobin, I’m so tired. I’m tired of having to read you like a book because you never speak up about anything that forces you to go past the surface. I’m tired of having to figure out myself what’s wrong, or having to ask Kelley, or Cheney, or A-Rod, or literally  _ anyone else  _ what’s up because you never do it yourself.” She exhaled deeply through her nose. “I’m tired of all of it. I don’t have any more fight left in me. Not even for you.”

 

Tobin started to shut down. “Oh—um, I—ok,” she choked, her body weakening when she tried to come up with something to save herself. Something to save them. Something to save the past two and a half years. 

 

Alex’s face fell even more than it had. “So that’s it.” 

Tobin finally wiped at a tear stinging at her cheek. “That’s it.”

 

Alex nodded her head, and her breath hitched in her throat. “I think I’m gonna stay at Jeri’s for awhile.”

 

“Alex —”

 

“Stop,” Alex whispered. “You don’t have to fight for this anymore. I don’t want you to.” Her eyes floated back to her laptop. She tore them away instantaneously. “I’m gonna pack my stuff and head out.  _ Please _ , don’t follow me, ok?”

 

Tobin nodded promptly, weakly. “Drive safe.”

 

And those were the last two words she physically said to Alex Morgan before she hopped on her 11 hour flight, leaving her and America behind.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_ Alex, I want you to read this next sentence very carefully. Take every word, every letter. And please please please remember it.  _

 

_ Just because I’m living in Paris right now doesn’t mean you ever stopped being my home.  _

 

**object twelve: the plane ticket**

 

_ This last object is the one I was the most nervous about putting in the box. When you see it, you'll either utilize it, or you’ll throw it into the trash. _

 

_ This last object is a plane ticket to Paris. It’s all paid for and everything. I didn’t include a ticket to go back home, because if you choose to come, I want you to go back on your own terms, whenever you want to.  _

 

_ I might even be getting ahead of myself. If you look at the ticket and no part of you has any ounce of desire to come, that’s ok. Don’t feel like you have to.  _

 

_ If you want to ignore the ticket, recycle it. Don’t feel obligated to try and sell it to someone else.  _

 

_ I know you said you had no more fight in you for us, but I still do. _

 

_ I want us to get better. That doesn’t necessarily mean getting back together, but I want us to get better. Or I guess the right way to put it is I want to get better for you.  _

 

_ The eleven objects in this box don’t define our entire relationship. Every single moment in between these objects means the entire world to me. Even a little more.  _

 

_ People say that your love for someone never goes away, no matter how much you tell itself it does. That it stays instilled in you until your heart stops beating. Maybe even a little after that.  _

  
_ I like to think they’re right, Al.  _

**Author's Note:**

> so this is pretty much the reason ch 4 of fake dating au has yet to be looked at. i'm still a little fuzzy about that update, and i'm sorry for the wait. try to hang in there with me.
> 
> friends have been giving me ideas for a follow-up for this fic, but that's yet to be determined.
> 
> (as always, thanks for reading.)


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